Stuck in an Elevator
by ICJenny
Summary: On the morning of the American Idol concert, what happens when a Glambert gets trapped in an elevator with her idol, Adam Lambert? --Rated T for brief language
1. Chapter 1

Soooo.... first ever fanfic. Love, hate. whatever. Just review pleeease!! :) Thanks!

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I never really planned this out. Even if I had tried to plan it, it still probably wouldn't have worked out like this. I mean, there's no way that I could have. My parents had booked the hotel months in advance, as soon as the tour dates had been announced . I had no way of knowing that it would happen to be the same hotel that the performers were staying at. Frankly, I would've preferred not to stay at their hotel; I didn't want to come off as one of those psycho-obsessed fangirls hell-bent on stalking their idol's every move. It's just not how I roll. I like to at least give off the impression that I'm not completely in love with a man I will never meet.

That being said, my Glambert side wasn't exactly keeping a low profile early that morning. I had woken up God-knows-how early to get ready for a pre-concert fan get-together. The whole time I was getting 'glammed up', I was berating myself… why am I doing this? It's not like he'll ever actually see me, I thought as I artfully applied black liner and glitter to my face. Surely there was no way he'd be mesmerized by my black, silver, and blue ensemble. Who was I trying to impress? My fellow Glamberts? Hardly. I was totally comfortable expressing my love of Adam to them… however, my family? Notsomuch. I slipped out the door quietly, hoping they were still asleep, so that they wouldn't have a chance to mock me and my flawlessly styled hair that he would never see. They just didn't understand. My parents were Danny fans.

Traitors.

My glittery heels clicked loudly as I walked down the hall. I was proud that I didn't even wobble a little bit. The shiny black clutch in my hand matched my scintillating nails. Quite frankly, I felt fucking fabulous.

I was extremely looking forward to my Glambert meeting, almost as much as the concert that night, despite the ghastly weather. The booming thunder did not dampen my spirits. Hell, I was away from my family, about to party it up with a few friends, then go to the best concert of my life. It didn't matter that the air around me was pretty cold. It didn't matter that my shoes weren't exactly comfortable. It didn't even matter that--

BOOM.

Whoa. Serious thunderstorms now. The lights even blinked a little bit.

Hmmm.

For the first time, I was worried about the concert. What if conditions were bad enough that they had to postpone it or something?! No, no, no. Nothing was going to ruin today. Nothing. The sun had barely risen; negative thoughts should not be coming around yet! Depression didn't usually set in until later in the day. I took a deep breath and carried on.

As I reached the elevator, the lights flickered again, and my thoughts flashed to the stairs. Perhaps they would be the smarter choice… but… I was on the top floor… and wearing heels… and… I was lazy. The sloth won over the intellectual within me, and I pushed the 'down' button.

By the time the sluggish elevator's doors opened in front of me, I was so lost in thought I almost didn't get in. I was going over the concert checklist in my head: phone, iPod, camera, and wallet in my purse. I had texted one of the other fans I was meeting with, Jamie, to ensure she wouldn't forget the blue glowsticks, noting the poor cell reception with a frown. Texted Lisa, the girl with the posters, and Terry, the girl with the bra. We all had roles in this concert, and mine was to record the entire thing. I had been landed with this task because I had been voted least likely to have a heart attack during the concert, being the youngest and (supposedly) most 'controlled'. I hoped they were right. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of Adam… like he would ever even see me.

That last thought had just popped into my head just as the elevator dinged and slowed to a stop. I glanced up; I was only one floor down. Who else would be using the elevator at this ungodly hour? As the doors started sliding open, my phone buzzed with a confirmation from Lisa. My fingers hovered above the keypad of my phone, but there was no chance of me being able to reply any time soon. My body had frozen. My eyes were bugging out of my head, and I could only stare in disbelief.

That spiky black hair, longer than usual. Those piercingly pale blue eyes. The beautifully freckled skin on his bare arms. The unusually stylish man purse(satchel!). The stretch of faded denim across his long legs. And then, the final confirmation: the pointy-toed snakeskin boots.

There was no doubt about it. This demigod that may as well have floated into the elevator next to me was the Glittery Alien from Planet Fierce himself.

Adam Mitchel Lambert.


	2. Chapter 2

ooh! chapter two! whatever is going to happen?! :)

Oh, and major bonus points to those that know what I'm talking about with the "Sex on Fire" reference!!

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He looked surprised, but not nearly as surprised as I felt. He gave me a quick grin and murmured 'good morning' to me as the doors began to slide shut.

I tried not to drool as I mumbled something back along the same lines. I didn't even notice my phone was sounding off again as another girl from the Glambert meeting texted me. His face flickered with surprise again as he heard the tune.

"Hey, I love that song! _Sex on Fire_, right? Kings of Leon?" I finally shook myself out of my mute stupor and mumbled something like 'haha yeah, it's a cool song'. I'm pretty sure none of the words were actually as clear as that. My brain was still recovering from the shock of being in his presence.

I suddenly realized how freaking stupid I probably looked. I mean, there I was, in the elevator of some fancy sky-high hotel at this absurd hour of the morning, standing in this extremely enclosed space with my idol practically pressed against my side, and all I could do was stammer and try to keep my eyes inside my head.

The ludicrous getup I was wearing made things so much worse. What was I thinking, that all of this makeup would somehow impress him? I looked like a clown! All the black gunk on my eyes and the powder and glitter on my face suddenly felt like it weighed a million pounds. At least it might hide my reddening cheeks, but it wouldn't conceal my ridiculous clothing choices: tight, low-cut black tee, complete with silver details and rhinestones, studded shiny belt, super-dark distressed skinny jeans, and to top it all off, those absurd heels that I had just _had_ to have. Leather, four-inch spike heels, completely covered in silver studs, rivets, and various other metal protrusions. I had talked about them for months to my fellow Glamberts. Sitting there on the shelf, they had looked so fierce… and now, all I wanted was my cheap-oh pair of Converse knockoffs. Even my flip flops would do. What the hell was I thinking?! I looked so awkward! Like someone trying to imitate Adam, rather than compliment his style, which was the original goal. Now I had just made a poser out of myself. Surely, Adam would have liked me just as much in a normal T-shirt and shorts… All of this, running through my head in a nanosecond, while the main character in all of my fanfics was standing **right next to me,** smiling down at me. Still way taller than me, even with my added advantage of heels. Then again, he could have some platforms boosting him up, but I most certainly was not looking at his feet at the time.

Maybe my discomfort (to put it lightly) was palpable in the enclosed elevator. Maybe he just felt sorry for me. Maybe he thought it was funny-looking. Or maybe, just maybe, Adam was actually telling the truth when his eyes lit up while he looked me up and down appreciatively and said, "Girl, you look amazing! I LOVE your outfit! And those shoes are fierce."

And the world was good again.

Perhaps my first coherent word of the short ride so far was me breathing 'thanks'. I mean, what else could I say? Well, okay, I could have said a lot of things. There was a huge amount of word vomit just longing to be let out and spilled all over the elevator, which I assume is a common feeling among fans of Adam when they're around him. But I resisted saying anything. It was the only way I could control myself. After all, I was the one who had always promised to be the 'normal' one around him. I was cool , I was collected, I was controlled. And I would not fail myself or my fellow fans. Seriously, if I couldn't handle an elevator ride without my hands shaking, how the hell was I going to operate a camera during 'Whole Lotta Love'?

All of that determination to keep myself contained almost crumbled when he turned to me, looked me _right in the eyes,_ stuck out a hand, and said, "I'm Adam."

Like I didn't fucking know that. I kicked myself internally after I gabbed, "oh I know!" like some creepy 9-year-old stalker, and I forced myself to give him a normal handshake, without squeezing the life out of those gorgeous, immaculately manicured hands. _Come on, girl. Be a normal person. Introduce yourself…_

"I'm Liz." There! I finally said it! I smiled with pride, adding to the smile of ecstasy that was already there. I probably looked deranged. He just laughed a little, the most beautiful exhalation of air I'd ever heard. "Nice to meet you, Liz." My simple name had never sounded so exotic. Everything about this man was exciting… I was just drinking it all in. Now that I was past my selfish anxieties, I could really enjoy the moment, mentally devouring Adam, every fleck of color in his longer hair that still rocked the fresh-outta-bed look, the smudge of black around his shockingly exquisite eyes, the just-visible freckles on his face and lips. His torso was covered by a V-neck shirt that exposed just enough chest to make me want to rip it right off of him. His magnificently toned and freckled arms weren't helping stifle the feeling. Then again, it was hard to focus on them when the jeans he was wearing clung appealingly to his thighs, marked at the top by a huge, glittery belt buckle of some sort and met at the bottom by his snakeskin boots. What was I supposed to concentrate on?! It was all just too perfect!

Just as I was about to completely give in to the fangirl-isms of my minds, Adam's mouth opened and I lost all train of thought to his sexy voice.

"So where are you headed? It's a bit early, you know, and you looked so fabulous." Trying not to completely spazz out at the compliment, I cleared my throat as best I could and replied, "Well, uh, I was actually on my to a Glambert meeting… you know, we get together early in the morning, have the whole day planned out, then we, you know, go to the whole idol concert thingamajiggy to see you perform and… uuh… yeah." While it wasn't as graceful as I had planned, in got the message across, which was all I wanted. My smile remained fixed on my face. My heart melted and exploded at the same time when Adam let out a little chuckle. "Glambert convention, huh? I should have guessed. You look perfect!" I had no doubt that my foundation did little to cover my blush as a stammered out, "Thanks!… Uuh, so do you! You- you look- you look great!" Another deep-throated chuckle and grin. "Thanks. But I doubt it. I just rolled out of bed, and this is what I threw on." I tossed a jealous glance in his direction. "_That's_ what you look like when you roll out of bed? That's not fair! You look perfect!" I didn't really pay any attention to his reaction as a thought struck me. "Hey! Uuh, I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to happen this morning, but do you think, maybe, that we could, umm, you know, get… get a picture?" The last words squeaked out weakly, embarrassedly. Adam softly laughed and nodded, like he had been expecting this. "Sure! For your Glamberts, right?"

I giggled back nervously as I rifled through my purse for my camera. "Haha well, for _your_ Glamberts, actually." His laughter at my cleverest quip yet cheered me up. Maybe this wasn't such a disaster after all.

After what seemed like hours, but really only could have been seconds, I finally managed to get my camera out of my purse and turned on. I glanced at Adam. "You ready?"

Oh, that smile he returned… "Ready when you are."

Gasp.

Die.

Laughing nervously like an unhinged fool, I held out the camera at arm's length and leaned towards Adam, as close as I could get without freaking him out or something… then, the unthinkable happened.

He put his arm around me.

ME.

ADAM FREAKING LAMBERT TOUCHED ME.

I a huge '**boom**' resonated through my head, and it felt like the world around me actually shuddered to a stop. I swear, the enchantment of his touch was so powerful, the lights even seemed to flicker… Adam really was magical.

I was so caught up in the bliss of the moment that I didn't even push the button before Adam looked up in surprise. "Whoa! What was that? Did you feel that?"

I gasped, looking up at him with stars in my eyes, loving the warmth of his body next to mine. "Oh, Adam! You felt it too!"

He looked at me, a little confused at my tone. "Hah, uuh, yeah, I think our elevator just broke… it's not moving anymore. Didn't you hear that huge thunder?"

"…Oh."

Well, wasn't I the dipshit of the day!

My cheeks turned beet red as the reality crashed down again. The boom that 'resonated through my head' was just thunder, like I had heard minutes before. The lights actually had flickered. And, for better or for worse, the elevator actually had halted its sluggish descent.

Our gazes met, and I couldn't believe this was happening.

I was stuck in an elevator with Adam Mitchel Lambert.


	3. Chapter 3

So thanks for all of you that left reviews!! You guys are GREAT. However, I just want to make something perfectly clear... there will be NO sex in this story. Sorry. Adam is GAY and the character is a woman. It just won't work. Sorry if i mislead anyone! Yes, she is attracted to Adam (Who wouldn't be?!) but they're just going to be friends. Anyway... on with the fanfic!!!

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Our gazes met as the realization of 'holy shit we're stuck in an elevator' hit us, and a moment of awkward silence ensued. I offered a weak smile tried to break it with a very insightful statement: "Umm, I think our elevator's stuck." Wasn't I such a fucking Einstein?

He glanced around, a little worried, as if looking for confirmation, then looked me right in the eyes and said, "I guess so." Even as I melted on the inside, I was a little relieved that his response was as generic as my remark, even though any word that came out of his mouth could be a quote compared to Aristotle.

I was still lost in his eyes when he said, "I don't think this'll last very long. I mean, they always have technicians working on this sort of thing, right?"

My breath whooshed out and I realized he was right. I still had to savor every moment with him, even though I was pretty sure I was already doing that to my fullest extent. "Umm, yeah, I'm sure they do, especially since this is such a fancy hotel, surely it'll be fixed quickly, but they might not even know we're in here, so we might have to call them, but that might not be necessary cuz they're probably on their way now and… yeah." Well, I wasn't sure if it was an improvement or not, but now at least I could squeeze a sentence out without stuttering. Even if it happened to be me spewing out a load of crap that made me sound like some sort of elevator expert… this whole 'keeping my cool' thing was proving difficult…

Even Adam seemed a little taken aback by my rambling response. He just kept on smiling, laughed a little, and said some sort of agreeable word. He was acting very amiable. Then it hit me: _acting_ amiable. This is the way he'd act around any crazed fan that he met. I mean, what else could he do? When encountered with a crazy person completely obsessed with you, your life, and everything you do, what else can you do but smile and nod? The thought upset me a little, that he might think of me as just some insane Glambert. My telling him that I was going to a Glambert meeting at way-too-early o'clock probably didn't help the impression, even if he did like my outfit. My feelings of sadness were replaced with determination to set myself apart from the rest of them, to be special, recognized, noticed, remembered, and I turned to Adam Lambert and asked in a clear voice the first thing that came to mind: "Is this how all your fan interactions are?" I didn't realize how dumb that was until he laughed and responded, "Umm, meeting a fabulously dressed woman early in the morning in the hotel elevator and then getting stuck there for who knows how long? Definitely not!"

I blushed a little, but I was firmly refusing to resort to my former state of stammering. "That's not what I meant! Are they, umm, are you always so…" I couldn't think of the word. 'Unresponsive' wasn't right… 'impersonal' maybe? 'Overly agreeable'?

I made the mistake of making eye contact with him while trying to think, and it all just fell apart. All that came to mind was 'perfect', and that happened to be the word that escaped my brain-mouth filter.

He laughed aloud this time, seeming much more genuine than his previous little chuckles. "What?! No! No way I'm perfect!" More laughter. "You don't even know!"

I blushed furiously. "That's not what I meant! I… uh…"

Sensing my frustration, Adam had stopped laughing and was staring me right in the face with the most concerned expression I had ever seen on a human being. He saw my exasperation and genuinely wanted it to be alright again. "What is it?"

I gulped and looked away. It was the only way I could think straight. "It's… umm… well, it's like this. Everything I've said, you've agreed to somehow. It's not like you're being impersonal or something, but you're just not… being… acting like a real person, you know?" I watched his expression and quickly backpedaled. "I mean, in all your interviews and stuff you're like talking nonstop, and basically all you've done is smile and nod… in a very attractive, amazing way of course…" I couldn't help myself. I was looking at him again… and he looked a little taken aback. I kicked myself mentally for making him feel anything less than happy and listened to his response.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel unimportant. It's just really early and I'm not quite up to my usual level of…" he struggled for the word. I helped him.

"Talkativeness?…"

He laughed again, still genuine. "Yes, exactly!" He beamed at me. "You gave me the perfect word for it!"

Feeling like I was about to collapse under the weight of his gaze, I weakly replied, "Well, I'm not _entirely_ sure it's a word…" He grinned more widely than before, right at me, and I almost fainted. He was so… overwhelming. It felt like his presence, his _power_, came in waves. I would almost recover and become a normal person and then I would be swept away by the grandeur of having Adam Lambert _next to me. _

"Oh, I'm sure it is. Sounds about right, right?" I could not find words to express myself. I was back to nodding dumbly, about to drown in his eyes. He probably thought I was the biggest freak in the world, and not in a good way. Going from a stuttering mess to not shutting up to accusing him of being "impersonal" at ass o'clock in the morning and then not speaking at all and staring at him like he was a freaking alien and acting like a general dumbass… wow. This was going GREAT. On top of being completely rude and most likely annoying to this man, I was also dressed somewhat like him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I lowered my gaze to wallow in my misery a little more. Why, oh why did I have to be stuck in an elevator with Adam Mitchel Lambert?…


	4. Chapter 4

YAAAAAY!! i FINALLY updated!! soooo sorry for taking so long! Ugh. Real life is such an ugly attention-whore :P

oooh, and THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed!! you guys make my LIFE. quick question though: how do you reply to reviews? can you? are you supposed to? is it considered polite? i dont know this site etiquette!!

and don't worry, this fic is nowhere near done. I'll try a LOT harder to update faster next time!!

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I suppose elevators are a common place for awkward moments. It's the perfect formula: when you press a button, you have no idea when the doors are going to open, so you could be caught in some sort of graceless position when the door opens, like picking your nose or fixing a wedgie. Then again, you don't even know if there's going to be anyone in the elevator. It could be completely empty when you enter, or there could be a fat old man in a speedo that leers at you creepily as he walks out past you, followed by his equally unpleasant grandson. And once you're actually in the elevator, you don't know if it's going to stop at another floor, or go straight to your destination, or if it does stop, what kind of person will be waiting there for you. What sort of person will you be forced to share that enclosed space with? The people that I imagine are smelly, old, fat, or all three. That's just my luck.

Normally, I pray for the ride to end quickly. Not now. Not this time. I want this ride to never end, the sole reason being the man squeezed in next to me.

_Adam Lambert._

His name still sounded delicious in my head, even though we were suffering from one of the most awkward of all awkward silences, you know, where you basically just insulted the character of the man you're in love with while simultaneously trying to suppress the fantasies growing in your head and worrying about the fact that you're practically drooling on him and there's no way to know when you're both going to be set free from the broken elevator and go your separate ways even though you and him both know that you're going to be watching and recording his every move on stage later that night… you know, that kind.

It appeared that even Adam, the most eloquent man in the world as far as I was concerned (not really saying much- at the time, my world was a small metal box), was starting to be affected by the atmosphere. He was just kind of looking away, pretending this wasn't the most painful experience of his life. Even though it killed me to know that _I _was the reason for his discomfort, I couldn't help but enjoy the moment a little bit. With him not looking directly at me, I could seriously check him out without holding back all that much. Well, yes, I was holding back because all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and kiss him and make it all better, but I thought that may have been a tad out of line. I had to settle for ravaging him with my eyes while he was turned slightly away.

Undeniably, it was his hair that was the most attention-grabbing. If you could only catch a glimpse of him for a fraction of a nanosecond, it would be the hair that caught your eye. I savored all of the spiky multihued odds and ends all over his head freely, letting my eyes wander down the curve of his neck, linger a bit at his exposed chest, drifting over the gym-toned arms, striving to penetrate the thin fabric of his t-shirt and failing miserably, relishing in the tautness of his jeans, the length of his legs, the conspicuous size of his very large, very noticeable…

Whoooooa there. Hold up. This is not happening. I'm not succumbing to my own little fantasy world while the poor man is standing right next to me! Come on! I'm better than that!!

_Get a grip… There. Respect the man… Goddammit! How do I 'respect' someone so fucking sexy?!_

I was about to force my gaze away from Adam entirely when his belt buckle caught my eye. _What is that?…_ I couldn't tell. I tilted my head for a better view. Was that a skull? Hmm, there's lettering around it… _What does that say?_ Even though it was huge by belt buckle standards, it was hard to make out all of the details because of the reflections off the glitter and the diamonds and the silver and the fierceness. I leaned in slightly. I could almost make out a word… something about… life? Love? Loud? I was squinting and really leaning forward when I heard a throat clearing…

"Ahem… is, uuh, something wrong?…" I glanced up at Adam's puzzled, slightly uncomfortable expression when reality once again slapped me in the face. I had just been very intently ogling his crotch.

_Kill me now._

I could only stare at his face as my mouth dropped open, stammering… "I… uh… oh my god! I… oh shit… I'm…"

My face. It was on fire.

What the fuck was I supposed to say?! "Oh, sorry about that! I wasn't _actually_ staring at your crotch. I was just trying to read your belt buckle!" Because he would definitely believe that.

What should I have done?! Adam was staring at me, a little disgusted I thought, I mean, who wouldn't be? I just finished having the most terrible sort-of conversational exchange EVER, embarrassed the both of us, made _Adam Lambert_, the most well-spoken man in the history of forever, feel awkward, and now he thought I was imagining myself in his pants while standing right next to him. And all I was doing was reading his belt buckle. I hadn't even been thinking about what lay an inch lower, but clearly, Adam thought that I had.

There was no way I could fix this… so I did what any teenage girl would do.

I started sobbing hysterically.

Even through my tear-soaked gaze, I could see he was extremely taken aback. If there was a picture definition of WTF, then his face right then would be right next to it. I put my hands over my face. This was a fucking nightmare. He probably thought I was mentally impaired. I didn't blame him.

I don't know how long I just stood there in the broken elevator, blubbering and smearing my makeup all over the place. It could've been seconds, it could've been days, but it didn't matter. It was mortifying any way you looked at it. All I know is that after some amount of time elapsed, I felt strong arms encircling my shoulders, followed by a warm body being pressed against my side, overwhelming me with a cool, sexy fragrance of cologne. It took me until he started shushing me and murmuring "there, there" in my ear that I finally comprehended the fact that _holyfuckingshitAdamLambertishuggingmeohmygawdwhyamIcrying?_ I froze, my breath caught in my throat, when he started petting my hair. My senses were overloading. I had each and every single one of my dreams, right there with me, wrapping me in his arms, and I was crying… How did any of this make any sense?

I guessed I owed him an explanation. When I finally calmed down enough to take a deep, shuddering breath, I looked up at him and declared in a clear, somber voice, "I was not looking at your crotch. I was looking at your belt buckle."

Pause. Absolutely blank stare. Searching eyes. Hmmm. This couldn't be good…

It took a while, but finally, he understood. Well, actually, no, he probably didn't understand. _I_ didn't even understand what was going on. Something just clicked, and his eyes brightened, and he pulled me into a super-tight hug that felt like being enveloped into a giant pillow, only with sexy muscles that squeeze you, only you feel like your floating on a cloud and drowning in his scent except for it's _nice, _really nice… you just want to stay there forever. I know I did.

I belatedly realized that he was shaking… why was he doing that? Oh god, I didn't make him cry too, did I?!

…Wait. He's laughing. My sluggish mind finally recognized that Adam Lambert was laughing his ass off. At me. And I wasn't even offended. There's something seriously wrong with me…

Time is weird when you're trapped in an elevator. Or maybe it's just the presence of Adam. I wouldn't know; I've never experienced one without the other. However, I still cannot recall how long I spent in his arms, feeling the laughter in his chest reverberate through our bodies before I grasped the thought that he was laughing at me crying! Shouldn't I have at least been a little pissed? That's what a normal person would feel like, but hey, what do I know about normal?

I swatted playfully at his chest, muttering, "S'not funny!" and putting on my best pout.

He giggled a little, reminding me of the last time he made that sound, so long ago… Well, that's how it seemed.

"I know, Liz, it's not funny. It's not." _He said my name!!!_ He spoke sincerely, but still with a grin in his voice. The words 'jolly old soul' popped unbidden into my mind as we both stood, me blissfully wrapped in his loving embrace as he rocked a little from side to side, humming and smiling a little, that soothing smile that said he understood, that it was all okay. And it was. Because he was happy, and I was happy, and what could possibly be better than feeling happy in the arms of a happy Adam Mitchel Lambert?

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By the way, all of the elevator experiences listed in the first paragraph or so are completely true. I now avoid elevators at beach hotels for fear of creepy old men in speedos. Just thought you should know :)

Review pleeeeeeease!! let me know what's good, what you liked, what i need to work on, whatever, just review and i'll love you FUR IMMER.


	5. Chapter 5

HAI! it's been far too long! I'll try to update for often! but... guuuh. real life is still so busy. Oh well, it'll stay that way until summer vacation. I'm still gonna write more! :)

So this one turned out longer than the other chapters. I'll stop adding more. Enjoy!

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"…_what could possibly be better than feeling happy in the arms of a happy Adam Mitchel Lambert?"_

Wow. How long ago had I said that?… If only I knew then what I know now.

Don't get me wrong, Adam's hugs are wonderful. Simply fantastic. The best I've ever had, in fact. He just seems to envelop you with his whole being, leaving you warm and tingly all over. But that is not as good as it gets with Mr. Lambert. Not even close.

Without a doubt, the most incredible experience of my life up to that point was having Adam Lambert redo my makeup for me.

Like most things, I don't really know how it happened. After he had finished with his comforting embrace and my tears had stopped, we both stepped back a little. I was about to look up and smile winningly at him in hopes that the fact that I'd just had a mental/emotional breakdown would slip his mind when I suddenly gasped in horror. At the same time, Adam looked down, and I saw his face twist in dismay. Surely he was thinking the same thing I was. I blurted out, "Oh no! Your shirt's ruined!" at the same time that he exclaimed, "Oh no! Your makeup's smeared!" I was confused and still too traumatized at the fact that I had left a huge black makeup smudge on his shirt to comprehend that he had noticed something on my face and was concerned about it. The whole "brain function" thing wasn't working out for me very well so far.

With concern still plastered on his face, he glanced down at his shirt. I had the feeling that he'd already noticed, and the fact that he was more worried about my face cheered me up immensely, until I remembered that I had just ruined his t-shirt, which probably cost more than my entire outfit. I started stressing again, even when he said, "Eeh, it doesn't matter" like the most carefree guy in the world, but he sounded a lot like the kid who drops his ice cream that he really wanted, but plays it off like it's no big deal to avoid drama. My stress, hell, my whole _life_ melted away, however, when he leaned forward, put his hands at the base of my neck, looked straight into my eyes and said, "What _does_ matter is that pretty face of yours. It's all smudgy."

Was he trying to kill me?! His gaze, his voice, his body, everything about him was so… intense. But he was so happy and light at the same time. I couldn't even try to understand, so I just smiled and squeaked "uh huh!" like a toddler about to go to Disneyland. Only it was so much better than that.

The next time my brain finally decided to catch up with the rest of me, I was sitting down, back against the wall, struggling not to move while Adam kneeled in front of me and carefully dabbed under my eyes with a small antibacterial wipe. I had raised an eyebrow when he pulled it out, but he grinned back at me and said, "It's just a cheap, easy way to take off makeup in a hurry. I always have some with me for quick fixes." I took his word to heart and swore to load up the next time I was in the school cafeteria, or anywhere else they were handed out for free.

I held very, _very_ still as his fingers gently brushed against my skin. He smiled a little at me, and I blushed and returned the favor, though not nearly as dazzlingly. I was still grinning when he asked, "Did you bring any makeup?" Shaking myself out of my euphoric reverie, I said, "Yeah, hang on a sec." I grabbed for my sparkly purse, dumping the contents onto the small floor: cell phone, iPod, wallet, camera (when had that gotten back in there?), chapstick, aaaand… oh, there it was! Cover-up, mascara, compact mirror, eyeshadow, and lipgloss tumbled out last. I smiled up at him, and he smiled back, and I realized just how close we were… The thought "WTF Liz he's gay, let it go" flashed through my mind, but I didn't let it deter me. It hadn't in the past… but, then again, I had never had him right next to me, all to myself, in this tiny, enclosed space…

I was just staring at him again when he frowned a little. I thought about how cute he was whenever he did that. Then he asked, "Where's your eyeliner?"

…_Uuuh…_

"Oh shit! Hang on…" I scrambled frantically through my purse, finding nothing but blackness, when it hit me: On my way out of the hotel room, I had stopped for a brief, final touch-up in the mirror… and left my eyeliner, my precious, coal-black eyeliner, laying on the counter.

I felt like I was in one of those terrible, dramatic movies where I'm supposed to start screaming 'noooooooooo' in a drawn-out, slo-mo sort of way. You cannot fix makeup without eyeliner; it's a staple, an essential. If you try to, it's like making a sandwich without bread, or having sex while you're on your period; it just doesn't work unless you're willing to get really, really messy.

Evidently, my extreme distress was once again very visible. This elevator ride was sure to give me an ulcer if I didn't stop freaking out. Ever the hero, Adam just gave me a soft grin and whispered, "No worries, I've got my own." He whipped his own stick out of his back pocket.

I gaped in amazement. He may as well have pulled out a condom and lube. Adam's eyeliner was a hugely significant part of his sex appeal; it defined the sensuality of his face, advanced the term "eye fucking" to a whole new level, just that little coal-tipped pencil… and he was about to use it on me. I couldn't even breathe. If you had plated my face with solid gold, I wouldn't have cared half as much. This was his _personal_ eyeliner. Adam Lambert's very own individual eyeliner was about to be applied onto my face.

Adam Lambert's eyeliner.

On my face.

_Adam Lambert's_ eyeliner.

On _my face_.

I don't really care if I was being repetitive. I just really needed to process. It was that big of a deal.

I smiled really, really wide, almost hurting my face, but I didn't care. This was so fucking amazing.

Adam frowned a little at the eyeliner, picking a bit of fuzz off of the tip, before looking up at my beaming face and grinning a little. My heart skipped a beat or seven when he leaned in close and breathed, "_Relax_."

When Adam Lambert says to do something, you'd better fucking do it.

I took a deep breath, in through the nose, filling myself with the scent of his Dior Homme cologne that permeated the entire elevator. All ten cubic feet of it. I know it seems like a stupid way to calm down with Adam himself right there, but I started playing his version of "Mad World" in my head. It had always worked before when I was really tense or pissed off, and surprisingly, it worked just as well right then, possibly even better. The song brought along the sensation of just drifting away into some cool, misty twilight, and I succumbed to the feeling. I was floating in a world where there was no stress, no messy makeup, no awkward moments to cause distress to perfect men. Even in my head, the song was that powerful.

The soothing effect it had on me was so strong, I barely felt it when Adam's hand brushed against my face, or maybe his touch was just that gentle. I was, however, extremely aware of the atmosphere created by his presence, his deeply powerful aura. It was palpable when I was looking at him, but I had never closed my eyes for long enough to realize that it all went so far beyond incredibly good looks. He was just so pure and genuine and _real_. I could feel him breathing on my cheek, smudging the smoky eyeliner with the his thumb, unintentionally caressing the side of my face with his other fingertips. It just seemed so intimate. Adam's touch is very sensual when he's applying makeup.

It would have been overwhelming in the first place, but having my eyes closed expanded my senses, and his proximity was almost too much. I could feel myself starting to freak out again, and that just wouldn't do; Adam had told me to relax! I concentrated harder on the beautiful tune of "Mad World" in my head, and tried not to think about Adam on his knees in front of me, perfecting the black ring around my other eye now. I tried not to think about the dirty, dirty things I could do to this boy right then…

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had…_

Well, the best dream I've ever had did not involve dying. I'm pretty sure anyone could guess exactly what it was. Well, probably not exactly… it was pretty wild, the way I remember it…

Focus, Liz.

_And I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, _

_When people run in circles it's a very, very_

_Mad world…_

_Mad world…_

"Alright, all done!" Adam chirped. I was so enraptured in the melody that it took me a moment to blink open my eyes. He was grinning widely at me. I smiled a little sheepishly back. My thoughts had gone a little astray back there, and I really hoped he hadn't somehow read my mind. Which really wouldn't be that implausible. The man could do anything.

I was still stuck smiling at him when he sat all the way down and reached for the compact mirror on the floor, asking, "Want to see the finished product?"

Oh wait, that's right. There was actually a point to him caressing my face other than sending me spiraling into some alternate, perfect universe.

"Umm, hell yes!" I took the mirror almost greedily from him, heart clenching in anticipation to see what magic he had worked upon me.

What I saw in that 2-inches of shiny plastic absolutely took my breath away. With black wax as his paint and my face as his canvas, Adam had transformed the muddled black mess into a gracefully scintillating work of art, with thick black lines around my eyes blending flawlessly into the surrounding skin, sweeping out to offer a catlike appearance. The whole look simply oozed sexiness, smoothness, glitter, and badassery.

"Wow" I breathed. It was all I could do. I could see him grinning from the corner of my eye, but I was too enraptured in my own brand-new rocker chic appearance to really notice. Yeah, I'm vain. So sue me.

I laughed a little under my breath. "You really made the makeup _I_ put on look like shit." He laughed out loud at that one, and my heart did backflips at the perfectly joyful sound.

Smiling again, I leaned in closer. "Oh! You added more eyeshadow!" I looked up in surprise. He was still smiling. "Yeah, you didn't notice? And you have fabulous colors by the way!"

I giggled like a little schoolgirl. "Well, no, I didn't notice. I… I was pretty relaxed."

He chuckled back. "Yeah! You looked completely out of it. Like you were in heaven or something."

I bit back my lip to keep from blabbering again about just how right he was, because, hey, he was dead-on, but I kept it simple. "What can I say? I like being pampered."

He really laughed at that, and it was completely infectious. I just kept right on, giggling madly like I should be in a room with sponge walls.

"Oh, so do I, girl, so do I!" I was so happy that he was happy, I didn't even wonder why he was completely cracking up, even though what I said wasn't even that funny. I didn't let it trouble me. It was just a moment of glittery ecstasy.

After we had both calmed down a bit, a troubling thought occurred to me. I turned to Adam with a very serious look on my face. I looked him right in those gorgeous eyes, and he turned to me with rapt attention. I began with a very steady voice. "Adam. We still have a _very_ serious problem on our hands."

His look was all concern. "What? What is it?"

I took a deep breath, like it was hard for me to say aloud. Which it was, just not for the reasons he thought. "Your shirt. It's still ruined. There's nothing we can do. I'm afraid you're just going to have to take it off."

With a quick glance at the massive stain my previous makeup had made on his shirt, he burst out laughing, harder than before. I tried as hard as I could to keep my somber face, but dammit, he was so adorable! I couldn't help but join him in our symphony of jubilant noise.

Out of breath, he leaned forward and tapped the end of my nose, a huge grin on his face. "_You_ are the most devious of all Glamberts! I'll have to watch out for you!" he broke down again, chuckling. I was too breathless to reply at all.

Devious!

That was a good thing, right?

Well, it is when the person who utters it is Adam Mitchel Lambert!

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I've ended all of the chapters with the same three words! Did you notice? :) the first couple times were coincidental, then i thought, hmmm. maybe i should just end every chapter like that! And it's pretty fun!

what do YOU think?

REVIEW fo sho! and i do LUUURRRVE those of you that do :)


	6. Chapter 6

I know, I know, it's been friggin FOREVER!!! I'm sorry! I am NOT abandoning this, it is not finished, but this chapter is longer. Yay! :) REVIEW PLZZZ KTHXBAI!

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So, a brief recap…

It's a dark and stormy morning. I'm dressed like a super glitter fierce bitch, on my way to a Glambert meeting from the top floor of the hotel. I walk into the elevator, go one floor down, then I'm joined by the Head Bitch in Charge himself. After I wiped the drool off my face, I attempted to get a picture with him, but I was distracted when our elevator broke down. I had then basically accused him of being "impersonal" with me, even though he was trapped in a broken elevator before sunrise with some psycho chick that was obsessed with him and he had every right to be just as "impersonal" as he wished. Because of that, there was a moment of awkward silence that I used to thoroughly check him out, but then his belt buckle caught my attention, and that was when he looked over and assumed I was staring at his crotch. In an irrational attempt to persuade him otherwise, I started sobbing hysterically, to which he responded by hugging me, thereby getting my smeary black makeup all over his shirt and my face. Somehow, he felt responsible for fixing the latter, so I spent the next five minutes or so in an Adam Lambert-induced euphoric high while he perfected my makeup using his own personal eyeliner. I looked fabulous afterwards.

Am I missing something? Anything? Because, looking back, that seems like a pretty shitty fan encounter for Adam. So, how on earth is it that I then had a semi-normal conversation with him?

Don't get me wrong, by normal standards, it was still a really weird exchange. But hey, how "normal" can a discussion be between a famous, talented, gorgeous gay man and his crazed fangirl who's desperately trying not to undress him with her eyes? And yet, we somehow managed. Mostly because of his flawlessly smooth way with words and the way his glowing, warm presence made me forget that I had just spent, like, three mortifying minutes blubbering into his shirt.

It began after we finished cracking up over his "devious Glambert" comment that still leaves me breathless when I think about it. He took a moment to step back and really look me over. I basked in the glory of his attention. He smirked a little. "Sooo… an early morning Glambert convention, eh?"

I beamed back at him. "Yup! It's an all-day thing, devoted entirely to worshipping you." I winked at him in hopes of making that statement seem more like a joke and a little less creepy.

Thankfully, he took it as either a joke of a compliment and laughed it off. "Well, isn't that sweet!"

_Not as sweet as the sound of your voice._

Whoa! Thank God I didn't actually say that! The sporadic poet within me was getting to be disturbingly bizarre. I just smiled in response. Hey, better than nothing.

To keep from spewing out other hymns of my love and adoration, I imitated Adam's actions and let my eyes very obviously roam over him, trying to look as calculating as he had, and probably failing miserably.

I began, "Sooo… where are you headed to on this lovely morning?"

He chuckled a little. "Well actually, I was headed to the arena."

I raised an eyebrow. "Already? It's way to freakin' early for that, man! Even you don't take that long to get ready!" I bit my lip, terrified that my big fat mouth might have offended him again, but his laughter allayed my fears. "Hahaha! No way! I'm not that high maintenance. Well, not yet anyway." He winked at me, and my heart melted like Jello in a microwave. "I actually leave this early to avoid the paparazzi. I try to stay away from them and the…" he glanced apprehensively at me. I helped him out. "Obsessive fangirls?" He laughed softly, a little relieved probably that I didn't freak out again. "Yeah, them."

I shook my head sympathetically. "Man, those creepy stalker chicks. I don't know how you deal with them."

He nodded in rueful agreement and replied, "Can't live with em, can't live without em."

I suddenly turned to him, eyes wide with shock. "Oh! Did you know that some of them actually try to dress like you? Like with eyeliner and black and glitter stuff?"

He gasped in mock amazement. "Really? No way!"

I nodded enthusiastically, keeping the joke going. "Yeah! And they go to big Glambert conventions where they obsess over you even more, and then they make signs and throw _bras_ at you! How weird is that?!"

He was definitely laughing really hard now. "I know! It's crazy! Absolutely insane. But did you know that some fans are obsessed enough to rent a room in the _same hotel_ as us? Completely wack, right?" He said it with a wicked glint in his eye.

I pretended to gasp in shock. "What! That's just so… so…" I couldn't hold out any longer. I broke down laughing. I collapsed against the side of the elevator and held my sides as I tried to breathe, failing to control myself when I saw Adam doing the same.

I struggled to pull myself together, but not for dignity; I had lost any shred of that a long time ago. I simply didn't want any tears of joy to ruin my makeup once again.

We ended up both sitting on the floor, side by side. It was very comfortable. A blissful moment of silence passed before I turned to him and said, "You know, you're never going to believe this, but we actually booked our hotel room waaay before we knew we knew you'd be staying here."

He turned toward me, eyebrows raised. "Nuh-uh! Really?"

Lips pressed together, I nodded. "Mm-hm. We live, like, hours away from here, so we booked a hotel so we wouldn't have to drive all the way back home after the concert. Since this is pretty much the nicest hotel around, this is the one my dad called as soon as the tour dates were announced."

He smiled at me and I tried not to hyperventilate. "Aww! Your dad's so sweet! And he did that just for you?"

I scoffed, and it came out a little more bitter than I had intended. "What, him? No way. He's here with my mom and my little brother. They're all _Gokey _fans."

…Wow. I really didn't mean to sound that spiteful. It just happened that way. I bit my lip and turned away slightly. I heard him let out a small, amused sigh. "What's everyone's beef with Danny, anyway? He hasn't ever done anything!"

I gave him the look of "you've _got_ to be kidding me" that I had perfected over my 16 years of life. "Are you serious? He's a douche! Don't question Twitter trends." He looked completely blank at that reference. "Nevermind. It's just, the way he acts, on the show and in interviews, he just seems so… conceited! And big-headed! And egotistical and self-centered… and there was the whole deal about that damn homophobic Myspace video- 'godly love' my ass! And then his cousin's--"

"Okay, okay, enough!" Adam laughed. It did sound a little strained, but when he looked at me, there was an honest twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "We all have our flaws. And yes, he can be… _difficult_ sometimes, but most of the time, he's a really… nice… guy…" Finishing his sentence had proven difficult when faced with my you've _got_ to be kidding me" expression again. Adam relented a little more. "Alright, he's difficult most of the time…" My expression didn't change. Adam sighed again, this time sounding like he was just letting it all out. "Okay. He's a complete dick. Can't stand the guy. Almost blew a gasket when Allison got kicked off instead of him. There." He settled back, looking slightly pleased wit himself, like, _yeeeeah, I finally said it out loud! Wooo! _Well, those are the words I would use to describe it, anyway. He'd probably prefer something a little more articulate, even this early in the morning.

Pleased with myself for making him actually admit it, I leaned back against the wall, the smile on my face more than a little smug. Adam noticed and smirked wryly. "What, so you're happy that I was stuck in a house with Danny Gokey for months and now I'm living on a smelly, cramped bus with him for the entire tour? Ha! Some fan you are!" This remark could've been extremely damaging to my very soul had it not been _Adam Lambert_ saying it with a spark in his eye and the devil in his grin, but angels in his voice. I gasped a little bit, fought the urge to get completely lost in his face and actually won. I was getting better at this… sort of. Maybe. Well, enough to come up with a decent response.

"No! That's not why I'm happy! It's just… it's nice to actually be right once in a while. Especially with you." Even as he laughed, I realized how silly that comment was. I had only been with him a few minutes. Or had it been hours? I couldn't tell you.

"Really? You seem like you would be right about a lot of stuff!"

_OMG Adam Lambert thinks I'd be right about stuff!!! …Wait, what?_

I felt extremely happy, and yet very confused. What had he meant with that? I'm sure I could've figured it out eventually, but apparently my expression was perplexed enough that Adam decided to help me out. "You just seem like you'd be a really smart girl. You're pretty witty, you know!"

_And devious_, my brain added. But I didn't say that. I was simply too thrilled to be existing in that elevator in that moment. _He thinks I'm smart!! And witty!! Wait… __**What?!**_ Surely he was joking. My adoring smile melted into a little chuckle. "You're not serious, are you?" Forgive me if I was just a tad disbelieving. I just seemed to remember acting like a total dumbass. I started to doubt myself when Adam reassured me.

"Of course I am! Most fans that want me naked just try to seduce me and rip off my shirt. You pulled off an entire obsessed, emotional fangirl act and got me to do your makeup _and_ gave me a reason to take off my shirt. Like I said, devious!" he winked at me, grinning like mad. I stared, intoxicated by the fact that he had _winked_ at me… if I didn't know better, I would say he was flirting with me…

_Of course, Liz. Because an adult gay man would TOTALLY go for some random teenager in an elevator. I'm __jailbait__, for crying out loud…_

Time to come back to reason. I pretended to be an intelligent person and played along. You know, totally cool. "Yes, you're right! I had it _all_ planned out. Got the hotel, tickets, the act, all in place. I even timed the elevator right so it would break down right when you got on with me." I was pretty proud of my straight face, even though I was drooling on the inside. Adam laughed out loud, still the most heartwarming sound in the history of forever. I tried to keep up the little show and hold back my grin, but apparently I held it back a little too well. Adam glanced at me, and his expression turned apprehensive. "Wait, really? You actually…" His eyebrows were so cute when they furrowed like that…

I broke out into a mischievous little grin, then completely busted out laughing. "Haha! Gotchya! You should've seen your face!" I continued giggling, and he quickly caught back on. "Oh! Ugh, you shouldn't do that to me! It's too early for that!"

I pretended to wave him off. "Eh, don't give me your excuses. I'm just too witty and devious for you to handle."

He was laughing harder with me now. "Haha! So true!"

I looked at him, smiling just enough to let him know that I was still joking when I said, "You know, I really resent the word 'obsessed'. It has really negative connotations."

He looked right back, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. His expression and body language seemed to convey that he was listening intently to me, and only me, and it made me feel really… special. And wanted. And even though I was the only other human being in that elevator, that kind of attention still felt really nice.

This thought process was followed by his kidding reply, "Oh really? Well then, what would be more suitable for your tastes?"

I ignored the answer that a specific part of my body gave to that loaded question and decided to keep up this façade of being a knowledgeable person. "Well, I have a theory."

He gave me a look that said that I was the center of the universe of his awareness. "Ooh, that sounds interesting! And what would this _au fait_ theory be?"

I grinned and replied like I knew exactly what the fancy French phrase meant. "Obsessed is just the word the lazy use to describe the dedicated."

He flashed his very white grin right back. "Okay then! So you're not obsessed, you're just dedicated. A dedicated fan."

"Exactly."

He smiled and laughed softly. "You know, the image that comes to my mind when I think of a 'dedicated fan' is someone who, you know, buys music and posters and wears shirts and goes to concerts… not someone who plots to trap the object of their affection in an elevator on some early morning."

I gasped, pretending to be offended by his kidding again. "What! How dare you suggest such a thing! Would never, _ever_ plot to trap my favorite rock star in the elevator in the early morning!"

"Oh, is that so?" He was so adorable when he was skeptical.

"Yes, it is. I would at least wait until midday. Or afternoon. That way he wouldn't be so cranky and insist on redoing all of my makeup just because it was a little smudged." I copied one of his many endearing expressions and winked, though not nearly as stunningly.

He chuckled. "Hey, I can be cranky if I want to. I didn't get to have my morning coffee." He pouted just a little, and I had to almost physically hold myself back from leaping into his lap and sucking on that jutting lower lip…

_Whoooooaah there, Liz! Take it easy!_

It wasn't easy, being a hormonal teenager made horny in the presence of a man that exudes sex.

In order to avoid him detecting my abrupt change in mindset, I distracted him (and myself) by playfully slapped his shoulder lightly. "Hah! At least you get coffee at all! I'm not allowed to drink it."

He turned to me, eyes wide, this time with genuine shock. "What! No way! I would die. Really? Why?!" He sounded like someone told him that the world was all out of ice cream. I couldn't hold back a little laugh.

"It's my dad. He says it's bad for you. It stunts your growth, you know." I grinned at him. He was still gaping in disbelief, and I had never seen a more gorgeous gape in my life. Finally, the corner of his mouth turned up, and he giggled a little. "Well, he may have been right. You have a _rockin'_ figure, Liz!"

I blushed from my pedicured toes to the roots of my moussed-up hair. It's true, I was almost five foot ten, and relatively slim, but not what I would call 'rockin'. However, when _Adam Lambert_ calls someone rockin, is there going to be anyone disagreeing?

Certainly not me!

I gasped and tried to reply coherently. "I, uuhh, thanks! I mean, that's really, swice, I mean neet, I mean, nice and nweet, I mean sweet, and,… uuh, thanks!"

Great. Back to the whole stuttering thing. I thought I had been making progress! All of those little steps forward towards being a normal person, completely swept away by that little comment.

I could never get used to this man.

I looked over, and he looked like he was trying to appear concerned, but he just looked like he was trying not to die laughing. "Oh, I'm so sorry honey! Did I embarrass you?"

One of my many flaws is that, in times of emotional crisis, I sometimes turn to sarcasm. And I often regret it. This was about to be one of those situations.

I snapped, "No, why would you think I was embarrassed? I just randomly turn beet red for no reason all the time! It's _so _much fun!" I immediately put my hand over my mouth and flushed even deeper, if that was possible. _Great._ So I was back to insulting him now. _Just awesome._ I never got anything right.

Before he even had a chance to react, I was practically falling over myself apologizing. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm not normally that mean when I'm sarcastic! It just slipped out! I love you! Please don't think less of me!" As I was babbling, I didn't even realize that I was leaning towards him and grabbing his arm until he laughed gently and put his hand over my own. "Relax! It's okay! I'm not offended, I promise." I stared deep into his eyes, searching.

"Really? You sure?"

He smiled back quietly, squeezing my hand. "Yes, I'm sure. There's no reason for you to freak out. It's okay."

I was so relieved, so overwhelmed by it all. I had screwed up everything, it seemed, with the man I loved, and here he was, almost holding my hand, comforting me. I wasn't crying, thank god, but it all just seemed to sweep over me all at once, the magnitude of the situation. The unlikelihood of it all, the insanity, my emotional instabilities. I don't even know how to properly describe it. I just know that all I could do at that exact moment is collapse against his side, and Adam Lambert put his arm around me and held me. It could've been awkward, what with our current positions of sitting against an elevator wall, but we made it work, and I could've stayed there forever. I have no idea how comfortable he was, but I was the most contented, snuggly, secure person in the world right then.

And so we stayed there, just like that, me resting against his side, his arm around me, my hand being enveloped by his, and we both just drifted away in our thoughts. Even though I had only really known his for a while, I felt like I had never been closer to anyone in that moment than Adam Mitchel Lambert.

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You like? :) I'm having fun!

So I'm thinking of writing a story parallel to this from ADAM's perspective... thoughts?!

I love you all! So much! Muah!

Review and you get to cuddle with Adam! :) Or you get undying love and affection from me. either one.


	7. Chapter 7

Yaaaay update! Pretty sure this one was faster than the last. Hopefully that trend will continue :)

Oh, and I'll definitely write this from Adam's perspective, but i'll wait until i finish this one first.

Review please and ENJOY!! :)

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"Ooh, I've got one! Favorite city you've ever been to."

Adam sighed and rolled his eyes. "Very original, Liz. I've never been asked that one before!"

I poked his side, earning a giggle. "I don't need your sarcasm, mister Lambert! I'm sorry we can't all think up questions like 'what's the most glittery thing you own' or 'what's the most psychedelic experience you've ever had'!"

He poked me back. "Hey, those are great questions! Not my fault you didn't have good answers."

"Well, at least I answered them at all. You wouldn't tell me your answer to the second one."

"Didn't want to scar you for life."

"I think that was already accomplished with your answer to the first question."

"Hey if you can't handle the thought of me in ultra-glittery tights…"

"Oh, you bet I can handle it! You have no idea how many times I've watched 'Crawl Thru Fire'. That was hot."

"Yeah, I had fun."

"You looked like it."

"I was pretty bummed about not getting to wear that flamethrower wig, though."

"Yeah… wait, what?!"

"Nevermind."

"Hey! I'm curious now!"

"Nope. Forget it. I- oof! Hey!" He broke out laughing as I tickled him down to the floor. It wasn't that far down. We were still sitting together on the floor, and eventually boredom had pushed us past the point of normal conversation and into games of 20 Questions and tickle fights. This was our third one. We had yet to declare a winner.

"Haha! Heeeey! No fair!" Using his superior strength, he grabbed both of my hands in one of his and tickled me with the other. "Hehehehehe! Stop! Stop! Okay!"

Adam paused, one eyebrow raised, not letting go. "Is that a surrender I hear, young miss?" he smirked. It got my fighting spirit back up.

"Never!" I cried as I slipped one hand loose and launched a counterattack. Catching him by surprise, I had the upper hand… for a moment. Laughing breathlessly, he grabbed my wrist with his other hand, pulling it away until his arms held both of my hands suspended in the air. We were still on the floor, awkwardly positioned after the scuffle, and our faces were very close together. Although I was gasping, I felt like I wasn't getting any air. He was looking right into my eyes, those indigo laser beams piercing through me, and I could feel his breath on my cheek. He grinned devilishly and whispered, "What are you gonna do now, Liz?"

I answered with what immediately came to mind. "Whatever you want me to." I grinned cheekily and winked, hoping desperately that he would take it as a joke, even though I had sort of actually really meant it. Thankfully, he did. He laughed, and I could feel his body shaking next to mine. I tried not to let my mind turn it into something erotic, with the same amount of success as I had been having all day.

"Devious doesn't even begin to describe you." he said with that sly grin still in place.

I tried to smirk back. "Oh really? Well then, what would be the more appropriate word?"

He chuckled. "How should I know? Between the two of us, you are clearly the more articulate one."

Rolling my eyes at his sarcasm, I tried to think of a good answer. "Of course! However, I'm not sure you know how hard it is to think when your hands are trapped above your head by some super sexy man who isn't letting you go."

He unsuccessfully stifled a huge smirk before I could even think about what I said. "Oh, believe me honey, I think I know how hard that is better than you do."

I froze, my eyes bugging out of my head and my face turning beet red. I almost choked on my own thoughts when an image flashed through my mind of something that never should have, especially when Adam was literally right in front of me. Then again, what else did he want me to think of when he said stuff like… _that?!_ There was no way he didn't know what he was doing to me. He started laughing uncontrollably at the shocked, embarrassed, and probably slightly guilty look on my face. His grip on me loosened, and I finally freed my hands. I rubbed my wrists gingerly, a little sulky as he continued to laugh at me. "You, sir, are responsible for the death of my innocent mind."

He stopped laughing long enough to respond. "Oh really? I'm pretty sure I didn't have time to corrupt your naïveté before I caught you intensely staring at my crotch."

I didn't know if it was possible, but it felt like my face even redder. Wasn't this the second time my face had caught on fire today? "I- I wasn't!! I was looking at your belt buckle!" Apparently, the desperately indignant tone in my voice was hilarious, judging by Adam's laughter doubling.

"Hahahaha! Ooh, suuuure you were! Look, I know you think I'm sexy, but there are better ways to show it than by staring at my d--"

"Hold up right there, Adam! Now, whatever made you think that I find you attractive in the least?" A completely ridiculous question, of course, but it was a distraction.

"Oh, so you're on first name terms with me now, are ya, kid?"

"You know damn well I am!"

"Tut-tut, language, missy!"

"I can't believe you of all people are correcting my language."

"Cussing is a fucking bad habit, you know."

"My point is proven."

"Yes, well, I don't really need to prove my point, do I?"

"Huh? And your point is?…"

"That you are completely unable to resist my body."

I rolled my eyes like that was the stupidest thing in the world. "Pssh! First of all, that has nothing to do with me swearing. Second of all, you're totally wrong."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yes." I was dead serious.

"…Okay." He looked confused and a little put off.

"It's not just your body. It's also your immaculate taste in clothing, your flashy performances, and your glittering personality."

"You forgot to mention my flawless way with words."

"And your immense humility."

"Of course! It's by far my best trait."

We looked at each other in the eye for a brief second before we each burst into laughter. Gingerly wiping tears from my eyes, I giggled, "I think the whole 'being famous' thing has gone to your head!"

He nodded, smiling. "Well, you know, it's hard to stay grounded when you're surrounded by people telling you how amazing you are all day, every day. But I manage."

"Wow. I'm glad you've survived through this difficult time in your life. That must be simply awful."

Laughing at my sarcasm, he responded, "Actually, it's harder than you may think. Now, being unknown is way worse, of course, but sometimes, I really just want to chill out, watch a movie, sleep."

"Or have a couple hours to yourself in some elevator."

"Yes, with my brand new best friend."

Grinning madly at the fact that I had just been called Adam Lambert's 'new best friend', however jokingly, I said, "You know, if you're really tired, you can sleep. You probably don't rest enough, and you got up super early, like me. I'm pretty tired too, you know."

He smiled and gave a little sigh. "Well, I would, but then word would get out that I slept with some girl in an elevator. Imagine how that would look on the cover of 'National Enquirer'!"

I leaned back against the wall, laughing. "Yeah right! How is anyone ever going to know about this?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, you never know, Liz. I've found that the internet eventually knows all."

I nodded sympathetically. "True."

"Especially in my case."

"Well, if you're referring to pictures of you in your pre-idol days, those weren't really negative."

"They weren't exactly positive, either."

I glanced over at him. He looked a little bummed.

"You know what I think?" I asked. He looked over, curious.

"Ya?"

"I think you looked fucking sexy."

He grinned broadly. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely. There's this picture of you at Burning Man, and you're wearing these shorts, and… _hot dayum_, man! People think you're flaunting it _now_. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's the sexiest thing ever when you dance, but I don't think it's possible to compare that to you in some of the costumes you've been in."

He laughed, fascinated. "Really!"

"Yes! Look, I'm not sure if that came out right or not, but you are like the sexiest being ever. I don't think I can describe it. Like, I could go on for hours about your various before-Idol costumes, the drag ones or just the crazy ones, and all of your performances, and I still don't think I could capture you, like, who you are. I just… you're just…. Yeah, I have no idea what I'm trying to say."

He just looked at me for a couple seconds, still smiling, like he was absorbing my nonsensical rant. I was confused about what I had said, so he had to be completely lost, or so I thought. Just as I was getting a little uneasy, he smiled, sighed happily, and pulled me into a surprise hug. With us both still on the elevator floor, I ended up just basically sitting in his lap, but it wasn't sexual. It was just… _Adam_.

I was swimming in a world of bliss when Adam whispered, "I'm so happy that someone _gets_ me!" My brain then basically unraveled, I was so confused, because I was pretty sure that I _didn't_ get him. Wasn't that what I had been rambling about? About how very "un-gettable" he was?

…Did it really matter? I was sitting, wrapped in his arms, and we were both completely content. So, no. At that moment, nothing mattered except for Adam Mitchel Lambert.

* * *

Hey ALWAYSDANCSWIM! I'm sorry, i lied, i can't actually make you cuddle with Adam! :'( but hey, how about sitting in his lap, wrapped in his arms? cuz i was totally thinking of you and your review when i was writing the last part of this :)

MIDNIGHTWHISPERS- i know! I can't wait for his CD either! Nov 23!! Woooo!

ADISONFOREVER- i'm right there with you! sooo jealous of this chick right now! :)

PRISCILLA- glad i made you laugh! :)

i love ALLL you people who leave reviews!! i'm sorry that i don't have time to reply to all of them!! :'( but hey, just know you have my undying affection :)


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